


so c'mon c'mon (and dance with me baby)

by theweightofmywords



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (not between H&L), Dancing, Drinking, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Meet-Cute, New Year's Eve, Strangers to Lovers, Tattoo Artist Harry Styles, Teacher Louis Tomlinson, brief mention of ben winston, corporate wankers, gratuitous champagne drinking, luke is a shitty boyfriend, sexy oysters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:08:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28420689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweightofmywords/pseuds/theweightofmywords
Summary: Determinedly, he rushes back to where the DJ’s loud music can drown out his loud and racing thoughts, where there is free champagne, and where there is a kind man, hopefully, still waiting for him.His chest unfurls with relief as he spots Harry, now with a martini in hand. He is standing steadfastly at their cocktail table, and Louis feels an odd sort of kinship when he sees his new friend. Harry straightens up as he sees Louis approaching.“Did you find-”“Let’s dance,” Louis cuts him off. Thankfully, Harry doesn’t ask questions.--Louis and Harry meet at a corporate holiday party, drink copious amounts of champagne, dance like fools, steal rich people's food, and possibly, just maybe, fall in love.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 22
Kudos: 104





	so c'mon c'mon (and dance with me baby)

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever stop using 2012/2013-style fic titles? Nope. This isn't beta-ed, I wrote this quickly and didn't want to stop the random burst of inspiration. 
> 
> Title taken from one of the best pop songs of the century aka "C'mon C'mon" by 1d. 
> 
> This should go without saying, but do NOT share this with anyone portrayed in this fic. Etc etc.

Louis doesn’t know what he is doing here. He figures it’s his duty as a supportive boyfriend- to go with his boyfriend to his company New Year’s Eve party and help him make a good impression with the boss. Luke is up for a big promotion, after all, and the holiday bonus would be nice. Luke’s been complaining about not having nice enough suits or shoes for work, and he hasn’t been discreet about making Louis feel bad for his lower-paying job. His refusal to take Louis anywhere unless Louis is willing to pay half has led to many a night eating pot noodles and cheap takeaway. Louis _needs_ Luke to get a bonus so maybe he’d be able to afford to take that stick out of his arse. 

Anyway, Louis likes his job as a preschool teacher, thank-you-very-much. Sure, it’s not high-powered like Luke’s job for some big bank, but Louis thinks they’re all corporate wankers anyway. 

All of them but Luke.

Except lately, but especially right now-- Louis very much thinks Luke is a giant wanker.

His boyfriend is currently leaning against the wall as he chats up another man, his lips close to his ear as they speak. Louis highly doubts they’re talking about mergers and acquisitions. He takes a gulp of his beer before setting the pint down. Sulking, he takes his small plate of crudite and cheese and finds a cocktail table off to the side. A server passes with a tray of champagne flutes, and he helps himself to one. 

At least the food and drink are good. 

Among the sounds of raucous laughter, bottles of champagne being popped, and boisterous bankers bragging about the new car they bought or the prime piece of real estate they gobbled up, a bass line and techno drumbeat pulse through the floors.

Looking over his shoulders, he realizes he is standing right next to the DJ’s speakers. His hearing be damned, he finds that he doesn’t mind. He can almost feel the beat of the drums in his heart, and it gives him something to focus on, a tether to help him feel grounded as his anxious nerves continue to grate. 

He isn’t great with crowds. He never thinks of himself as shy, having a penchant for drama and performing, and never thinking twice about being silly for a crowd. But when he is stuck in the wings, when he has to just _be_ , he feels naked. No characters to hide behind, no children to teach, no lines to recite or dance moves to remember, no notes to hit. 

No boyfriend at his side. 

“Good champagne, at least,” a voice pulls him out of his mental rabbit hole. 

Louis glances over and sees another man leaning against the table, a flute of bubbly in his hand and a small plate of prawn cocktail in front of him. 

“Excuse me?” Louis asks, unsure of what to say in response. It’s almost like the man could read his mind. Are his feelings that obvious? 

“I said, at least the champagne is good,” the guy answers, a shy smile on his face. “You seem a little bored.” 

Louis finds himself smiling at this stranger. Glancing at him, he notices the man fully. Dark brown hair, waving slightly at the ends, frame a kind face- wide eyes gleaming, full lips curving into a grin. The DJ’s lights shimmer across his sheer pale pink shirt, a large bow tie sits below his neck. Flared black trousers encase his long legs, and-

Louis blinks. He’s staring. Shit. 

“It’s not really my kind of party,” Louis admits after his mind refocuses.

When the man asks if he works for the bank, Louis nearly spits out his champagne. Coughing out a laugh, he shakes his head vehemently. “No, god no,” he says. “Oh.. I mean, er… no offense, if-”

The man just stares at him with furrowed brows, his warm smile gone from his face.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Louis stumbles over his words before he realises that the man is smiling again, his cheeks pink with held-back laughter.

“I don’t work here,” the man giggles. 

Louis fishmouths for a moment before he slaps the man’s arm with the back of his hand. “You little shit! I was convinced I had offended you!”

“Absolutely not. My roommate dragged me here tonight. Said I needed to get out for a bit,” he explains with a shrug. Extending his hand, he says, “I’m Harry.” 

“Louis,” he says, as they shake hands. 

“Who brought you here then?” Harry asks, taking a sip of champagne. 

Louis tries to ignore the urge he’s having to lie. He feels a pull to this stranger, like he could go anywhere with him and still be happy. But he likes to pride himself as a man with morals, a man who doesn’t cheat. 

“My boyfriend,” he answers. He points to the other side of the room where he last saw Luke. But when he looks, he sees the spot is empty. Dismissing the swell of anxiety in his chest, he turns to Harry. “So, your roommate is the banker wanker then?”

Harry laughs, a sharp noise that sounds oddly pure amongst the corporate cacophony. “You could say that, I guess. Ben’s an old family friend. I’m living with him while I finish my apprenticeship.” 

“Oh, what are you apprenticing for?” 

Harry pulls up a sleeve of his shimmery shirt to reveal inky drawings up and down his forearm. “Tattoo artistry! I’m hoping to join a local studio, and maybe even open my own someday.” 

Louis’ face lights up. “I’ve got a few myself,” he says, gesturing towards his suit-covered arms. “Been itching to get more done though.” 

“I’d love to work on you,” Harry says easily, as if he did not just make Louis’ heart race, the thought of laying so close to this man making his head spin. 

Louis chugs the rest of his champagne. Luke. He needs to get back to Luke, his boyfriend, who he cares for. They haven’t said the “love” word yet but Luke’s hot, and he’s rich, and he’s decent in bed, and he’s his _boyfriend_.

“I should probably find Luke,” he says, setting his glass on the table. “Haven’t seen him for awhile.” 

Harry looks down and away before he meets Louis’ eyes. Louis notices that they’re green and so so so pretty. Giving a tightlipped smile, he nods. “Nice to meet you, Louis.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Harry, non-corporate-wanker,” Louis grins. He begins backing away, though everything in him is saying to forget Luke and just stay with Harry. There’s nothing wrong with talking to a fellow wallflower, but he should be spending New Year’s Eve with his boyfriend. 

Before he can change his mind and just stay and talk to Harry, he’s walking through the crowded room, looking for Luke. To no avail, he finds himself walking down the hallway leading to offices. 

“Luke?” he calls out. Most of the offices are dark, but when Louis turns a corner, he sees an office, dimly lit. He tries to ignore the cold pit in his stomach as he walks the few meters to the door. 

“Luke?” he says again, reaching for the door handle with nervous hands. Luke never really said that they were exclusive, though Louis liked to think they were. “If it walks and talks and sounds like a duck, let’s just call it what it is,” he had begged. Luke just kissed him quiet and said, “What are you talking about? Stop talking about ducks.” 

Even though he knows what he will see before he actually sees it, encountering his boyfriend half-dressed with another man still feels like a slap in the face. 

“Lou-” 

Louis backs away quickly, slamming the door shut. He walks quickly down the hallway and back to the main atrium as his eyes burn with a mix of anger and shame. Determinedly, he rushes back to where the DJ’s loud music can drown out his loud and racing thoughts, where there is free champagne, and where there is a kind man, hopefully, still waiting for him. 

His chest unfurls with relief as he spots Harry, now with a martini in hand. He is standing steadfastly at their cocktail table, and Louis feels an odd sort of kinship when he sees his new friend. Harry straightens up as he sees Louis approaching.

“Did you find-”

“Let’s dance,” Louis cuts him off. Thankfully, Harry doesn’t ask questions. 

Louis grabs his hand and starts pulling him towards the dance floor. He’s aware of the feeling of their hands together, the firm way Harry holds on to his, how he so willingly follows Louis onto the dance floor. 

The song isn’t even that great, but they dance their way across the floor. Uninhibited by the nature of not knowing anyone else here, Louis finds himself doubled over in laughter at the crazy shapes that Harry is pulling. Louis spins Harry under his arm in a clumsy twirl, before they begin dramatically waltzing to the top 40 EDM beat. Louis feels ridiculous, but when he looks at Harry, grinning madly and looking only at him, he realises that he doesn’t care.

It’s New Year’s Eve, and he wants to have a good time, his unfaithful boyfriend be damned. 

They’re sweaty from dancing, and Louis itches to take his suit jacket off. The grayish-silvery coat is one of his nicer ones, and at the beginning of the night, he felt like maybe he could play the part of a wealthy banker’s boyfriend as he stood next to Luke. But now, with Luke literally fucking off with some other man, Louis just wants to feel like himself. 

Tossing his suit jacket off, he brings it back to the cocktail table and begins rolling his shirt sleeves up. Harry, faithfully, follows closely behind. 

“Hot in here, innit?” Louis says as he loosens his tie. 

“Sure is,” he says, with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

Louis rolls his eyes before he sighs, as the words tumble out. “I found my boyfriend with another man,” he confides, his smile freezing on his face before slipping. “I mean, he wasn’t really my boyfriend, he never said we were exclusive, but… I guess I feel a bit shit right now.” 

Harry’s jaw is clenched and the grip he has on the edge of the table has Louis worried for the inanimate furniture’s wellbeing. “That bloody bastard,” he grits with disgust in his eyes. “Lou, I’m… god, I’m sorry.” 

Louis doesn’t know why he feels his eyes burn. The kindness of strangers always gets to him, he supposes. Maybe it’s because Luke always made him feel like he was never enough, or maybe it was the audacity to cheat in such close proximity to him, or maybe it’s the fact that Harry is dancing like a fool with him when Luke had told him to “I need to make a good impression, so please-” when they were on their way to the party. 

“Thank you, Harry,” he manages. “I’ll be okay. New year, new me!” 

“I like you just the way you are,” Harry says, and his earnestness makes Louis laugh wetly, as he wipes tears from the corners of his eyes. 

“You don’t even know me, mate.” 

“Sure, but I’d like to,” Harry shrugs, his words honest and easy. 

Louis feels his cheeks heat. “Okay, Harry. Too many feelings for a New Year’s Eve party,” he says. He can’t stop himself from caressing Harry’s cheek before glancing at the passing servers with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. “Let’s get some more rich-person champagne.” 

Harry laughs. “Yes, let’s.”

It’s two glasses of champagne later when Louis realises that they’ve moved closer together, leaning tipsily against a wall. They are their own party in the midst of this larger soirée, their voices hushed amongst the music and laughter. 

“I’m not really one for posh people, but they certainly know how to throw a party,” Louis hiccups, putting down his glass.

“Wish I brought some plastic containers,” Harry giggles. “I’d take home enough charcuterie to last a week.”

“I’d bring home enough lamb lollipops to make a whole rack,” Louis grins. “Ring the whole family, ‘come over, I’m having a Sunday roast!”

Harry’s whole belly shakes as he laughs, the line of his neck exposed as he throws his head back.

“I’m a preschool teacher, not a stand-up comedian,” Louis smiles, self-depracatingly. 

“You make me laugh though,” Harry responds. Louis looks away to hide his smile, not wanting to show his smitten face so soon. He senses that Harry is aware of his effect on him, if the way he moves closer is any indication.

“Aside from charcuterie and lamb, what else should we smuggle home?” Louis asks, conspiratorially, trying to swerve the conversation away from his fond feelings towards the man. 

“All of the vegetables. And that spread of tropical fruit. Oh! And raw oysters. A lot of them,” Harry says quickly. Louis remembers how just moments before, Harry had slurped one down with glee. “I don’t really eat a lot of meat, but oysters essentially don’t even have a central nervous system, and they seem like they’d be gross-“

“Because they are-“

“Have you had one?” Harry challenges, his face indignant.

“No way! They’re raw, first of all, there’s got to be some sort of danger!”

“Lou, it’s New Year’s Eve, don’t let fear stand in the way!” Harry exclaims, gesturing dramatically towards the raw oyster bar a few meters away.

Louis looks between the raw oysters sitting on a bed of ice and Harry’s excited face, and he sighs. 

“Okay, fine. New year, new me, and all that,” he says. Harry claps and rushes over to the raw oyster bar, only to return with a plate full of shells. 

Facing each other, Harry holds up a raw oyster, topped with mignonette sauce and freshly-squeezed lemon. 

“Look what I have,” Harry singsongs, holding one up to Louis’ lips.

Louis hesitates as he makes a face, but hearing Harry go on and on about them makes him wonder what he might be missing out on. 

“Eh, what the hell, why not,” he replies, grabbing it from Harry’s hands, their fingers brushing in the process. Louis can’t tell if he’s warm because of how much champagne they’ve had or if it’s just the chemistry between them. Maybe it’s both. But either way, before he can change his mind, Harry has placed a raw oyster, mignonette sauce and all, in his hand. 

“So I just… er… swallow it whole?” Louis asks, eyeing up the gray slimy creature in his hands. 

“Yes,” Harry murmurs, mischief in his eyes. “Swallow it down whole.” 

Louis heats at his words, but he puts on a brave face and stares Harry square in the eyes. 

“I’m good at that,” he says, smirking. 

Harry shakes his head and sighs. 

“God,” he mumbles bashfully, as if he wasn’t just speaking in sexual innuendos two seconds ago, and Louis wonders if it would be okay to kiss him at midnight. 

“Anyway,” Harry says, louder now as he holds the oyster up again. “To eating the rich!” 

“Cheers to that,” Louis exclaims. They hit their shells together in a toast before bringing it to their lips, like a shot. Louis feels the cold oyster slide into his mouth, and he tries to hide his disgust. 

“Good, right?” Harry says, licking his lips.

Louis grimaces. “I need a shot to wash that down.” 

Harry shakes his head goodnaturedly as he pulls Louis to the bar. After they take their shots, Harry reaches for Louis’ hand again. 

“C’mon,” he says, walking towards the dance floor again. “Dance with me.” 

They’re no longer dancing like fools. Instead, Louis’ pressed against Harry, from their torsos down to their hips. Louis closes his eyes as he grips Harry’s hips, feeling them undulate beneath his fingertips. He noses at Harry’s jaw as he lets his eyes close, feeling his heart race in time to the beat of the music. 

Distantly, he hears the DJ announce that there are just a few minutes to midnight, and the dance floor crowds even more. Their bodies impossibly close, he can feel Harry’s lips against his temple, his ear. 

“Is this okay?” Harry asks, his voice hitching. Louis opens his eyes to stare at him as he nods. The stubble on his chin, the pink curve of his lip, the lashes that frame his eyes. He wonders if the champagne has gone to his head or if Harry really is the most handsome man he has ever met. Louis moves his arms to rest on his shoulders as he rests his forehead against Harry’s. 

Louis distantly hears the crowd around them start to shout, the seconds winding down on the year. 

_“Ten!”_

“I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward,” Harry says. 

_“Nine!”_

“I know you came here with a boyfriend, and-”

_“Eight!”_

“Now I’m here with you,” Louis interrupts. 

_“Seven!”_

“And I wanna be yours now,” he adds in a murmur. 

_“Six!”_

“Yeah?” 

_“Five?”_

“Why the hell not? New year, new me,” Louis says, a smile playing at his lips.

_“Four!”_

Harry smiles back as his eyes close, his lips just a breath away. 

_“Three!”_

“Happy New Year, Harry,” Louis whispers. 

_“Two!”_

“Happy New Year, Louis,” Harry whispers back. 

_“One!”_

And in the midst of cheering and noise, with golden confetti falling all around, fireworks explode as they kiss for the first time. Louis feels a world away from Luke and his condescension, from his stuffy suit jacket and tie, from awkward smiles exchanged with members of the upper income percentile. With Harry kissing him like he is his very own holiday bonus, he feels fearless. 

When they break apart, Louis drapes his tie around Harry’s neck, only to bring him closer into another kiss. He begins backing away, his hands still holding the ends of his tie, Harry happily following. He begins walking towards the exit. 

“Where to, darling?” Harry asks, pulling him closely into his side. 

Louis raises a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s a new year, Harold. Let’s go on an adventure!”

“Sounds good to me,” Harry smiles, kissing Louis’ cheek as they walk away side by side.


End file.
